Got 99 resolutions, but I won't fulfill one...

Hello 2014. I know you expect me to lose weight, find inner peace and shop less, but, like, shut the fuck up.

I've realized that making a resolution, or five, is almost as silly as joining the gym in January. I can barely keep personal life goals in the middle of the year... how am I supposed to keep them at the beginning?

I know. I need to turn a new leaf and better myself. And I want to. So bad. I just think setting yourself up for disappointment for 12 months straight won't do any wonders to your sanity.  And as someone with limited sanity to begin with, I would prefer to preserve it as long as I can.

Ugh, I know. I'm the worst. I'm sure that anyone who is reading this is thinking of me as a fat slob with commitment issues (half true) but I know(ish) how I function now and I know that I don't do well when I bite off more than I can chew.  If anything, 2013 was a long, dreary lesson in realizing that. I hate making promises I can't keep, even to myself. I like simple, achievable goals. So, this will not be the year of the Resolution, but the year of the Occasional Goal.

Here is a list of Occasional Goals I will try, but not pressure myself, to achieve:
- Finish thesis - This needs to be done. It's not so much a goal as a necessity.
- Make resumé beautiful so employers will love me - This also needs to be done. Or else I will be sad and broke.  Employers do not take baked goods as bribes.
- Find job with beautiful resumé - See above.
- Stop buying shoes (and other things)- I have no space for anything right now. Space is a surprisingly good way to limit purchases of all kinds.
- Do groceries more often - GrubHub is getting to know me too well. It has an intimate relationship with my debit card that needs to be stopped.
- Occasionally go to the gym - Self-explanatory. Once a month is good enough for me.

These are a few Goals I can think of right now.  More will be added, or some will be taken away.  Long-term though, I want to be happier and less crazy. But this involves a whole lot of self-improvement that comes from the baby-steps above. I might make a timeline for myself, I might not, but, ultimately, I don't want to pressure myself. Nothing good comes from pressure except stress and mass food consumption.

So, here I am. Looking 2014 square in the eye. I don't know what this year will bring and, quite frankly, I don't care. As long as I can look back and say to myself, "Good job. You did things."

I don't want to reflect on the next year with what I didn't do because, honestly, I'm so over feeling like a fat slob with commitment issues.

A Letter

Dear Self,

What are you doing?

You need to take a deep breath, step back and give yourself a long, hard look in the mirror.

Sure, it seems that your heart has been used as a punching bag by seemingly emotionally unavailable man-boys, but don't sit there and take it.  Wallowing over things that would never have been with a bottle of whiskey won't solve anything.  Passive aggressively emoting through self-depricating humour won't solve anything either.

You want your heart to harden like you always say?  Don't give any fucks.  Don't let anyone make you feel less than stellar.  Don't let anyone make you question your sense of worth.

Yes, this year has actually been awful and rock-bottom hurts like a bitch.  But isn't that incentive enough to make the most of your next year?  Forget those eyes that refused to return "I love you" and forget those words that cut like a knife.  Erase the broken promises, the drunken confessions and the failed "what ifs".  You are able to start fresh.

Stop focusing on what's temporary and begin to embrace what's permanent.  You are what's permanent, even if you don't see it right now.  Your family and your friends who have loved and supported you through the worst of times are permanent.  Everything else is just white noise, a distraction from what really matters.  And girl, you've been letting it distract you for way too long.

It's time to let go and turn to a new page.  In fact, go buy a new fucking notebook.  Your old one is only stained with ink, negativity and bad feelings.  It's good to reflect occasionally, but don't get dragged down that rabbit hole of misery.

It's a new year and a new adventure.  You can breathe now.  You can feel again.

You are free.

Sincerely,
The part of you that is still, surprisingly, optimistic

Why I can't function properly anymore... (or, Life would be easier if I didn't have feelings)

I am in limbo, at a crossroads, whatever...

And I don't like it.

I'll be wrapping up my MA shortly and, as I'm sure anyone who knows me has realized, I have no fucking clue what's coming next.

I have ideas, swimming around my brain, and the freedom to do as I please, but I still can't fight the feeling that I am, possibly, fucked (and not in a good way).  This sounds melodramatic and I know I have the support of family and friends... I just can't seem to accept it.  Even if I have a safe place at home with my parents while I sort things out, there are too many "X" factors, too many unknowns, to breathe easier.  I like knowing things, I like having a game plan.  I mean, isn't this what threw me off the first time?

The thing is, everyone assures me that it will all work out and that's nice, because what else are you supposed to say to someone who is on the verge of a panic attack?  But, what if it doesn't?  Suppose I'm not actually as qualified as I think I am?  Suppose I didn't branch out enough when I should have?  Suppose I'm just not that good enough and, along with everyone else, I have been kidding myself into thinking otherwise?

Unfortunately, I wear my emotions on my sleeve and I've become way too introspective for my own good.  So, I spend my days with a clenched fist, worried eyes and a brain racing with "what ifs" and self-doubt.  I want to turn it off so badly and focus on my immediate tasks and interactions, but I can't.  The future is looming and no amount of therapy or alcohol can keep it at bay.

I have a thesis to finish, looming future... come back in two weeks!

I also hate repressing my feelings.  When you're potentially leaving in less than a month, feelings are the last thing you need.  You don't want to be selfish and give expectation to something that has a definite expiry date, but you also end up driving yourself crazy by keeping everything bottled up.  It just sucks because I like feelings, especially good ones.

So, here I am.  Sitting in my tin can of a room, listening to "calming" (i.e. sad) music and silently freaking out.  I want to shut my brain off for a bit and focus on my important tasks, I want someone to respond to my cries for employment and I want to know what is happening a month from now, but no one said life was fair.  I'm looking for an "easy" button to push when I should be building it, and I'll be lucky if someone gives me the right wires or an instruction manual.

I guess the only thing I can do right now is take a deep breath and keep going, right?

I know what you are, but what am I?

Write... delete... write... delete...

How do you write a dating post without sounding like fabulous lunatic, Carrie Bradshaw?

While this will hardly be my only post on the subject, and trust me, there will be many documenting my adventures and misadventures (there are a lot of those fuckers), I want to develop a foundation of sorts for what I'm dealing with here.  I want you, the reader (if there are any), to understand where I'm coming from, what I'm feeling and why I do the shit I do.

Think of this as a sort of prologue.

I'll admit it.  I've become a serial dater.  It just kind of happened.  I discovered the magic of online dating and used it as a man-buffet.  At first, for entertainment.  And then, I realized my reasons for doing this ran much deeper than a free meal and good make-out sesh.  I wasn't looking for anything serious because, let's face it, when I started this hobby, I was still pretty fragile (from events that will remain unwritten until I feel like I can do so properly, which I'm not sure I ever can).  Meeting these different men wasn't so much about finding a "mate" as it was about reworking myself.  I had fallen apart and needed a way to piece myself back together, sort out who I was.

This sounds awful, depending on men to make myself feel whole again.  I totally realize that.  But, honestly, I feel like it's much more complicated than it looks.  Let me explain.

1) As I said before, I was not looking for a serious relationship, but I also wasn't just looking for a fuck-buddy either.  I wanted a friend.  Lots of friends.  I wanted to keep myself busy with all of these friends.  Going back home after being away for nearly six years... I had very few friends left in the city.  Except for my bestie and a few old high school buddies that I saw once or twice, I had no one.  And, in a city like Montreal, making friends after being gone for six years doesn't come easy, especially when you've changed and so many have stayed the same.

I knew that if I didn't entertain myself somehow, I would go crazy.  I would sit and think of everything that happened and be sad and hurt and never recover because I would spend the whole summer wallowing in self-pity and M&M's.  And that happened often.  But with these new suitors to grab food, drinks, movies, etc... with when my bestie was occupied (or sick of my moping), I distracted myself.  A distraction that came with little commitment and, usually, a fun activity (or sexy times).

2) No one ever turned down a compliment.  As someone who had suffered a blow to whatever self-esteem, self-respect, self-anything they had, I needed to try and understand what was so great about myself.  And when you receive a flood of invitations from potential suitors, using positive words that you hadn't heard in about 6 months, you latch on to the idea that someone, out there, might appreciate you for whatever reason.

As someone who struggles to take a compliment, receiving a flood of them from strangers (or eventually lovers...) is confusing and kind of nice.  The quick and easy confidence boost I needed to realize that I was still everything that I thought I wasn't.  As I said before, this sounds kind of bad, but sometimes, in a dark place, you take what you can get and go with it.  My therapist had no complaints with my logic, fyi.

3)  I was lost.  I didn't really know who I was anymore so I felt that this was a good opportunity to test out different facets of myself.  Interacting with these guys, who had no idea about what I was, what I am and what I wanted to be... it almost acted as a trial run for what aspects of myself worked best.  There were remnants of me in each meeting, each action, but I had a chance to start fresh in a subtle way.  Be the person that faded away, but better.

I feel like testing the waters on my "multiple personalities" has really helped me heal... in a strange way.  I'm no Frankenstein's monster, stitched together with coarse thread and feelings, but I feel like through piecing together my trials and tribulations, I've become someone I can tolerate again.

(Side note: I really wanted to order Chinese while writing this post.  Like right now.)

As I continue to date in New York, the blows and the successes haven't gotten easier.  I still have trouble accepting rejection as a "it's them, not you" scenario, I still struggle with how to sum up my reasoning for online dating (because sometimes "man-buffet" doesn't really cut it) when asked and, more recently, I have trouble approaching my past with my present and potential future.  But, what I do know, is that you have to roll with the punches and use each situation to your advantage.  Living in the past won't help, but being afraid of the future doesn't do much either.